


I Must Increase My Bust

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Breasts, F/M, Kink Meme, Large Breasts, Masturbation, Prompt Fic, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 14:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave has a thing for large breasts. Jade discovers she does too.</p><p>(This is probably not what Witch of Space powers were meant for...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Must Increase My Bust

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a response to a [kink meme prompt](http://homesmut.livejournal.com/15023.html?thread=29790127#t29790127). I fixed a couple typos, but otherwise this version is exactly the same as the one on the meme. The full prompt details are at the end of the fic.

You are Jade Harley and your friend Dave Strider has just signed off Pesterchum because his bro is teaching him night strifing and right now Houston is as dark as a big city ever gets -- which is about as dark as what you get if you stand in a white-painted hallway with a thousand fluorescent lights all humming out of tune because some idiot's stuffed hospital gowns inside the fixtures instead of just flipping off the switch, according to Dave. You're not quite sure what he means by that, since you don't have any fluorescent lights on your island, but you think it boils down to Houston not actually being that dark at night.

Your island gets very dark when you remember to turn off the lights in your house. Maybe you could invite Dave over to visit...? You could show him your telescope, and he could definitely practice night strifing!

But he thinks you're weird and sometimes you get the feeling he doesn't believe half of what you tell him. And anyway, it's not like he could just hop on an airplane. Your island isn't even on most maps.

You'd really like to meet him, though. You'd like to meet all of your friends. You know it'll happen eventually in the game, which is going to start very soon now, for real! But you get so tired of waiting sometimes. You want to know if John really is as good at practical jokes as he says, if Rose is as calm in person as she sounds online, and if Dave...

Well. And if Dave might kind of maybe possibly...

You bite your lip and wonder if Rose is online.

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \--

GG: rose?  
GG: rose are you there?  
GG: i know its late where you live but i need to talk to you!  
GG: ok maybe i don't need to, but i really really want to  
GG: you can psychoanalyze me and everything, promise!!! lol :D   
TT: Hmm.   
GG: hmm???   
TT: I am weighing the relative appeal of simultaneously helping a friend and indulging one of my preferred pastimes vs. not falling asleep in the middle of school tomorrow.   
GG: oh sorry! i always forget about weekends and stuff like that  
GG: i can wait, its not that important   
TT: Is that an evasive maneuver I spy?  
TT: Clearly this discussion takes precedence over such pedestrian issues as algebra and the watered-down pabulum my school district attempts to pass off as history lessons.  
TT: Sit down on my metaphorical couch and tell me everything, Jade.   
GG: lol!  
GG: well ok...  
GG: um  
GG: you see, i was talking to...  
GG: no that's not how to start  
GG: i mean im not stupid, i can use the internet and look things up for myself!  
GG: but thats not the same as actually being around people all the time  
GG: so i think maybe im not always good at knowing how to...  
GG: um...  
GG: ...............    
TT: Yes?   
GG: rose how can you tell if somebody might like you?  
GG: i mean LIKE YOU, not just like you  
GG: <3 you  
GG: you know?   
TT: Which of our friends is this in reference to - Dave or John?   
GG: rose!!! D:  
GG: dont be embarrassing maybe its not either of them  
GG: maybe there are lots of people i know  
GG: maybe this is entirely hypothetical   
TT: Somehow I am inclined to doubt that, but for the sake of convenience, I will pretend this is an entirely hypothetical conversation.  
TT: Signs of attraction differ from person to person and from situation to situation, thus making their decoding one of the trickiest endeavors in human society.  
TT: The task becomes exponentially more difficult without physical - or, at a minimum, visual - contact.   
GG: oh like skype?   
TT: All that being said, romantic affection can often be detected via such things as a person's choice of words toward the object of affection, tolerance of behaviors that s/he would normally not tolerate from anyone but the object of affection, and willingness to pursue actions that are otherwise inconvenient.   
GG: or maybe not skype...  
GG: but rose thats what friends do!!!   
TT: (Incidentally, if this is about Dave, you might wish to discuss the matter with John. His taste in movies is execrable, but many of them do contain romantic subplots of some type.)   
GG: youre doing most of that right now with me and i know you dont like me that way!   
TT: Are you certain? <3   
GG: rose!!!!!   
TT: That was a joke, if you failed to detect the tone of my typing.   
GG: DDD:   
TT: In any case, the simplest way to resolve the problem is often to ask the other person what his or her feelings are.   
GG: i know but...  
GG: i dont think im ready to do that  
GG: not yet  
GG: not when i dont even know what he likes in girls  
GG: its so hard to tell when hes being serious and when hes just being ironic  
GG: especially since i dont think thats even how irony really works   
TT: .........   
GG: oh no!!!!!   
TT: Don't worry. I won't tell Dave.   
GG: i am so embarrassed  
GG: im usually much better about keeping secrets!   
TT: I'm sure you are.  
TT: However, let me take this opportunity to reveal one or two of Dave's secrets that might have some bearing on the overall topic of this conversation.   
GG: ???   
TT: I am perhaps better equipped than you to recognize and see through Dave's wall of ironic detachment.  
TT: From what I have determined over the years of our mutual friendship, he does genuinely like you as a friend.   
GG: thats nice but...   
TT: Whether he likes you as something more, I have no idea as I have never asked.  
TT: But I can safely say that he finds the earnestness you and John display to be strangely touching, in a way that makes him feel protective of you both.  
TT: He has also expressed to me, under cover of what I presume he thought was a sufficiently attention-deflecting layer of tortured metaphors, that he enjoys looking at women's chests.   
GG: ???   
TT: In simpler terms, he likes large breasts.   
GG: oh  
GG: um  
GG: that might be a problem :(   
TT: A person's taste in pornography is not necessarily the best indicator of what she or he will seek out in a flesh-and-blood partner.  
TT: Furthermore, we're only thirteen. Who can say what changes the remaining years of puberty will bring?   
GG: if you say so...  
GG: anyway thanks for listening and not laughing at me! <3<3<3  
GG: but not <3 like that obviously! lol   
TT: It was no problem.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] \--

You sign out of Pesterchum and look down at your chest. It's not like you're completely flat -- you definitely do have breasts! But they're not what you'd call large. Probably not even medium. Pretty tiny, actually. Certainly not enough to attract a boy's attention unless he already likes you, and you still have no idea if Dave has ever thought about you that way.

Oh well. You should go feed Bec and see if he wants to play fetch this afternoon. Then you have to take care of your greenhouses, and dust the houseguests, and practice your bass guitar, and...

But first you'll just lie down and take a little nap. Yes.

It's almost time for Prospit's eclipse.

Maybe you'll see Dave in the clouds.

\---------------

When you first meet Davesprite as all of yourself, it's kind of awkward because he is and isn't the Dave you remember from years of Pesterchum conversations and your too-brief adventure on LOFAF. Davesprite has all Dave's memories up to the start of the game, he talks in the same elaborate ironic metaphors, he draws the same shitty comics, he makes you alchemize him a set of turntables and a mixer and all kinds of DJ gear... but at the same time, he's kind of _not_ Dave. He broods over you and John like a mama bird over her eggs and doesn't bother pretending he's only worrying for ironic purposes. And one time you overheard him and John talking stupid boy talk and he admitted (at least, you think he admitted; his metaphors get pretty bizarre sometimes) that he doesn't have any, um, bits anymore, and he doesn't even miss them because he doesn't think he has hormones anymore either.

"It's like, null program, command unknown, try again," he says when John looks twisted up like he's not sure whether to be sympathetically horrified or just shrug it off like Davesprite is doing. Davesprite twitches his good wing, settling it more snugly against his glowing orange back. "It makes sense from a design standpoint. Who wants a guide program going off the rails because its wants to go do the delirious sicknasty tango with who-the-fuck-knows?"

John manages a strangled laugh. Davesprite turns to look at him and you quickly teleport yourself away.

Weird. And hey, you're kind of a sprite now too, right? Does that mean you've been reprogrammed or something? Quickly you close your eyes and imagine Dave kissing you... Yup. Tingles. Maybe going God Tier overwrote that aspect of Jadesprite?

You'd kind of hoped you could watch Davesprite and see if he liked you, because that would mean Dave probably did (or would) too. You couldn't figure anything out during your frog hunt on LOFAF, because Dave was too focused on keeping all your time loops stable and then Jack barged in and killed him. But obviously that's not going to work.

It's probably for the best, you tell yourself. Davesprite is still Dave, more or less, which means he's your friend and it would've been mean to lead him on if he ended up liking you.

Anyway! Aside from the weirdness about Davesprite, it's fun being on the battleship with everybody. You spent most of your life alone except for Bec, so meeting all these new people is very exciting! Sometimes it's also overwhelming and you get kind of tired trying to remember who everyone is and keep track of all the things people talk to you about, but mostly it's awesome.

The best part is that John realizes you're not always very good at keeping track of little everyday details. You were always so busy keeping track of big problems like time travel and Prospit dreams and the game that you never got the hang of little things, and now that part of your mind is tied up making sure the ship stays at light speed. John reminds you when to take showers and come eat breakfast and things like that. Sometimes he even cooks! (Nannasprite's cooking is better, but there's something a little creepy about her glowing blue oven, so you prefer it when John makes your meals.)

"You sure are hungry!" John says one evening (or what you've jointly decided will count as evening, since greenish hyperspace whooshy shenanigans are not exactly a useful substitute for a sun that rises and sets in a reasonable and orderly fashion). "Did you get enough to eat on your island? Oh my gosh, you weren't starving there, were you?"

"Of course not!" you assure him. You had vegetables in your greenhouses, and you could hunt or fish anytime you wanted some meat to restock your refrigerator. "But I guess I forget to eat sometimes."

"No wonder you're so skinny," John says. You stick out your tongue at him. He laughs and scritches you behind your furry white ears, which always makes you want to wrinkle your nose and sneeze.

You think about that later on, though, when you're changing into your nightdress. You are awfully skinny -- nothing but twigs and bailing wire, as Nannasprite says -- even if you're not quite as skinny as before the game. Maybe that's why your breasts are still pretty small, even though you're getting close to your fourteenth birthday? Breasts are made mostly of fatty tissue, right? So if you didn't have any fat on your body, obviously you wouldn't have big breasts.

Hmm.

Also, fatty tissue is supposed to be a good insulator! That didn't matter at home on your island, but while this space between universes never exactly gets cold, it never really gets warm either and your awesome God Tier First Guardian sprite powers don't extend to artificial heating. So it's practical to gain a little weight, right?

And if your breasts grow a little too, well, that can just be your secret bonus.

You take seconds at dinner the next day. John is thrilled that you like his attempt at meatloaf. (It is very good meatloaf! You think. It's not like you've ever had any other meatloaf to compare it to. But it's very tasty!)

Anyway! You're never sure exactly what does the trick -- finally eating regular meals, subconscious use of space powers, or just getting older -- but over the next two years your breasts do grow. They grow a lot, actually! Nannasprite helps you alchemize bigger bras and says things about how you're turning into such a lovely young woman, she's so proud of you for getting everyone safely out of the session before the Scratch, and goodness, if she were alive again and even twenty years younger would you two have such _fun_ going out on the town! You laugh, but you think to yourself that you don't care about going out with anyone unless it's Dave.

Maybe it's silly to still be hung up on him when you haven't talked in so long, and you only met in person that one time, but you can't let it go until you've actually had a chance to tell him how you feel.

You cup your breasts in your hands one night, feeling their soft weight overflowing your palms and the hard crinkle of your nipples between your fingers and thumbs, and wonder if Dave will think you're pretty. If he'll trace his fingertips over the tops of your breasts through the fabric of your shirt, and then run his hands up underneath to touch bare skin, sliding cool fingers into the crease where your breasts press down against your chest. If he'll pinch and twist your nipples until they rise hard and painful, and then trace faint, sharp lines with his fingernails over the tips. If he'll bend his head and kiss his way in spirals toward the center and then bite down, teeth and tongue, soft and hard, and...

You shove one hand down into your underwear and finish yourself off, biting down on the edge of your pillow to muffle your gasps and moans and an occasional woof. You rub your breasts into your sheets as you come.

Um.

Well.

Clearly Dave isn't the only one who has a thing for breasts. As you catch your breath, you wonder if you would ever have learned this about yourself if Rose hadn't told you his secret.

Your breasts are warm and heavy, nipples filled with a pleasant ache, as you drift to sleep.

\---------------

Finally the ship crashes through the fourth wall at the end of the yellow yard, plunging you into the post-Scratch session. You've sent all the consorts and carapace people back to their planets; only you, John, and the three sprites are on deck, just in case Jack or some unknown enemy is waiting for you.

But the only thing visible in the darkness of paradox space, here at the edge of the Furthest Ring, is an asteroid dotted with metal structures hanging dead ahead between you and the dim purple glow of Derse. Something small and red rises from one of the metal squares and shoots toward you.

"Is that--?" John asks, squinting behind his glasses. He lowers his crazy dice-hammer-thingy toward the deck.

" _DAVE!!!_ " you shout, waving your arms wildly. Behind you, Davesprite puts a clawed hand over his face and mutters something about public displays of emotion being so uncool. You move the ship forward and meet Dave halfway.

He lands at the very front end of the ship, several meters away from you. He's wearing the God Tier outfit you saw briefly when he was at the Green Sun, but he's pulled down the tight coif to rest on his shoulders, and his spindrift hair is tousled out of its usual style. He shoves his broken sword into his strife specibus and sticks his hands into his pockets. "Sup," he says, and leans casually against the rail.

There's a hint of a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth, though, and three years with Davesprite have helped you learn to read at least some of the emotions he won't let show. You flush and look down. You want to go talk to him _so badly_ , but not in front of everyone else.

"Oh my gosh, it is so good to see you!" John says, and drops his hammer with a clang. He runs forward to wrap Dave up in a massive hug. You take the chance to move the ship the rest of the way to the asteroid, where Rose and the trolls -- and a black carapace man in a mummy outfit? how strange! -- are waiting for you. Davesprite extends one of the gangplanks and the others cross over.

"Rose!" you shout, and leap at her.

She falls to the hard metal of the deck, and you start to apologize for knocking her down, but she's laughing and smiling so you stop bothering and just hug her. "This is the first time I've ever actually seen you!" you tell her. "Wow! You're really pretty. I'm not sure orange is your color, though."

Rose grimaces as she pushes you away for a moment so you can both stand. "I can't say I disagree with you on that point," she says. "John and Dave were lucky enough to keep their chosen colors, and black suits you fairly well. I seem to have received the dregs of our collective color-related luck, which I suppose is ironic when one considers that luck is meant to be the aspect supplying my power."

"It's the exception that proves the rule," you say. You can't stop yourself from grinning, even though you know your face is going to scream with pain if you don't get your smile under control soon.

"Ha," says Rose. Then her face settles into more serious lines and she says, "We should have at least twenty-four hours before Jack Noir catches up to us, but unless the horrorterrors make an unprecedented intervention he will inevitably arrive within the next thirty-six hours. I foresee that events within the new session will come to a head in roughly the same timeframe."

"So we all have a big dinner party and get to know each other, we get a good night of sleep, and then we go meet the new players _before_ everything goes boom," John says, startling you into a badly hidden twitch. When did he and Dave sneak up on you?

"I fucking hate to say it, but that's not a completely bulge-licking idea," one of the trolls growls, glaring at John with vaguely red-tinted eyes.

"You must be Karkat!" you say.

He snarls at you. You grin wider and cheat, teleporting over to pat his head and blinking away again before he can retaliate.

John cracks up, and Dave sighs, grabbing hold of his shoulder with one hand. "Okay, time to get you out of what passes for polite company among trolls until you get your balance back and quit tripping your sorry self off the handle," he says. He drags John over the gangplank to the asteroid without so much as looking back.

Oh.

No.

He hardly noticed you, even after you embarrassed yourself shouting his name.

"Nannasprite, will you take care of dinner?" you say vaguely. "Guys, just tell her what you'd like to eat and she can make it with her magic oven."

"Jade?" Rose asks, lightly touching your arm.

"I just realized how tired I am!" you tell her, hauling a smile back onto your face. "I've been moving this ship at light speed for three years and now that I'm not, I feel a little light-headed. So I'll just go lie down and maybe start getting a feel for the planets in the new session. If we're lucky, I'll be able to slide our planets into orbit around Skaia without messing anything up."

"I wish you luck," one of the trolls -- the pretty one with glowing skin -- says with a fanged smile. "Hello. I am Kanaya; we spoke about frogs," she adds by way of introduction. You smile and nod as she twines her fingers into Rose's free hand. Rose pats your arm briefly and follows her troll friend through a door and into the guts of the battleship.

You teleport back to your room. You don't want to pass anyone in the hallways and have to pretend you're happy to see them.

It's not that you wish they weren't here! Of course not. You're very glad to see Rose again, and tomorrow you'll probably be ready to meet the trolls and see if Karkat is really that grumpy all the time, and what's up with the one dressed like a clown, and whether Kanaya and Rose are just friends or maybe something more.

But tonight you want to be alone and cry a little because now you know Dave doesn't like you like you like him. He didn't say hi, he didn't give you a hug, he didn't even look at your breasts. You were sure he'd at least _notice_ them, with how tight your shirts have gotten lately.

You look at yourself in the mirror John nailed to the metal wall for you and frown as you turn from side to side. Your breasts look pretty big under the black sweater of your God Tier outfit, and the white swirl smack in the middle of your chest should draw attention to them. But maybe you only think they're big because you don't have anything to compare them to. Most of Grandpa's blue lady pictures had them with their backs to the camera and turning to look over their shoulders, so you don't know if they had big chests. You didn't exactly look at porn online before the game, either, and there was no way to connect to anything outside your ship for the past three years.

Maybe your breasts are only ordinary size, nothing worth looking at twice.

You pull your sweater over your head, shimmy out of your sparkly dress, and unhook your bra, letting your breasts spill down your chest under their own weight. You cup them in your hands, watching the soft flesh overwhelm your palms. If you center your hands under your breasts, your fingers can't even reach halfway up the sides, but evidently that means nothing. Probably you just have small hands.

You flop down on your bed in nothing but underwear and your striped socks and sigh, blowing a few stray hairs away from your nose.

There's something you thought about once or twice during your first months on this ship, but you decided it wasn't worth the risks -- who knows what space powers will do if you only use them on pieces of living bodies instead of shrinking or expanding everything all together? But maybe it won't hurt to try just this once, just to see...

You close your eyes and reach down and in with that special, green-tinged sense that lets you feel the exact location and dimension of everything inside whatever universe currently holds you. You have to do this carefully, have to make sure you get your skin and blood vessels and all the little glands and ducts and connective tissue bits so nothing tears or explodes or whatever else might go wrong. This is much more complicated than just making yourself a giant!

When you finally have all the fiddly little pieces held in your mind, you take a deep breath and tell your breasts to grow. Slowly. So very, very slowly -- barely a millimeter every ten seconds at first. You pause. Everything seems fine. So you go a little faster, and then a little faster than that, and then...

Oh, wow, that aches!

You open your eyes and blink.

The edges of your breasts spill off the sides of your chest, too big to fit anymore. Your areolas are huge, like the bottoms of coffee mugs, and your nipples stand up as tall as the first joint on your thumbs. You scoot backwards, pushing yourself to sit upright with the headboard for support, and your breasts shift inward -- warm, stretched flesh rubbing against flesh. You can feel sweat start to gather in the deep crevice between them.

They're so _heavy_. And yet, they aren't sagging down like half-inflated balloons or anything. They press against your chest, sure, and they're rounder on the bottom than the tops, but your nipples point up and out and when you raise your hands to touch, you can feel the harder swell of milk glands under the fat, giving structure to the massive weight.

Your body tingles at the contact of skin on skin.

You swallow a moan and ghost your fingers higher and inward, toward the aching peaks of your nipples.

It's like an explosion of white fireworks racing from your eyes down to your clit and back again, every featherlight graze of rifle-callused fingers on soft, stretched skin setting off a new burst of magnesium flare light and sound. Your hands slow, nearly stop, the sensations too intense to process, but your left hand gets the message just that one tiny bit slower and your thumb presses the side of your engorged nipple.

Your head falls back with a thump you barely feel and you can't restrain your voice anymore and you moan loud enough that you know John would overhear and feel embarrassed if he were in his room next door right now and--

Dave opens the door and stares.

\---------------

"Uh," you say after a minute, words currently beyond your grasp.

"Yeah," Dave says, apparently equally deserted by the English language.

Suddenly you realize you're sitting on your bed in nothing but panties and socks, with your crazy giant breasts hanging out. "Close the door!" you shout, trying to cross your arms over your chest. It doesn't do any real good -- you can block your areolas but not much else, not with how big your breasts are right now -- and the pressure of your skin on your nipples threatens to undo you again.

Dave steps into your room and closes the door behind him.

Um.

That wasn't what you meant to happen. He was supposed to be outside, not in here! And he's still staring at you behind his shades. You think. You can't tell exactly where he's looking, but there's a blankness to his face that, judging by Davesprite, means he's really, _really_ distracted.

"Sup," he says. His voice isn't quite as desert dry and level as you remember from LOFAF, and the faint, drawling accent he and Davesprite generally try to blot out is a lot stronger than usual.

You glare at him.

"So, uh, I wanted to say sorry for absconding with Egderp before I got to say hi to you," he says, still with that carefully blank expression and unhidden accent. "I realize that probably looked bad, like a kid forgetting to open his best friend's present on his birthday and then throwing the box out in the trash with last week's leftovers smeared all on top of it, sayonara friendship, but, uh..."

He trails off and takes a step forward.

"I was really looking forward to seeing you again, you jerkass," you say. You can feel your breasts jiggle as your diaphragm moves.

Dave swallows heavily. "Yeah, me too. Looking forward to seeing you, not to seeing myself, obviously, not even I'm that cool that I need to stare at myself all day long when I could be staring at your boo--"

He breaks off and fakes a cough.

You blink. Did he just say what you think he did?

"My breasts?" you ask. You think about leaning forward to show off your cleavage. Then you remember that you're practically naked and he walked into your room without permission, and you cross your arms harder. Your breasts tingle and you have to suck in a rapid breath to steel yourself against the fireworks in your body.

Dave turns his head aside, but you notice he's still watching you in the mirror. "I. Uh. Okay, look. I like boobs and there you were all cute and derpy and adorable like I remembered, only with a really banging set of tits, and sweet jegus, Harley, do you think I'm made of stone? I didn't want to do an acrobatic flying leap off the handle and molest you in public or something. So I absconded, then I came to apologize, and now I swear you've got boobs three times as big as an hour ago and you're practically molesting yourself. Can you fucking blame me for staring?" He stuffs his hands awkwardly into his pockets, drawing your attention down to where you suddenly realize his erection is straining against his pants.

"And that's really all there is to say on that subject," Dave concludes, still watching you in the mirror.

You uncross your arms.

Dave's head snaps around. This time you know exactly what has his attention.

Time to be brave.

"I like you, Dave," you say.

"Same here," he says after a slightly too long pause.

"No, I mean I _like_ you. Like more than a friend," you clarify. You gather your courage and ask the most important question: "Do you like me too, or do you just like my breasts?"

Dave is silent for a long moment, and you're about ready to turn away and grab a pillow to hold over your chest. Then he sighs and pulls off his shades.

His eyes are really, really red. And they're meeting yours, not fixed on your breasts.

"I dunno if I like you that way. I thought about it a few times -- Karkat goes on and on about his stupid shipping diagram if you give him half a chance -- and yeah, I think you're pretty cool in your own completely uncool way. You know more about science than most people with freaking nuclear physics degrees, you've got scary good aim with those guns of yours, you laugh at my jokes even when they pretty much suck, you're an honest-to-god real life genuinely nice person, you always try your hardest to do what you need to do and help your friends... and you're fucking gorgeous. Obviously. But do we really know each other well enough to say if we like each other romantically? This is only the second time we've actually met."

"So what?" you say. This time you do lean forward, going onto your hands and knees and letting your enlarged breasts swing free of your chest to dangle like ripe, tempting fruit. A trickle of cool air blows through the now open crevice between them, evaporating the gathered sweat. Dave's eyes snap downward, helplessly, before he yanks them back up to focus on your face.

"We've known each other for years. So what if it's mostly been over Pesterchum? That's enough for me to know who you are, and to know I like you no matter how annoying you can be. So I'm going to ask one more time: do you like me, or just my breasts?"

"Jegus fuck, _both_ ," he says.

You shift your weight and your right breast grazes the side of your arm. Fireworks again.

Fuck it, you decide, that's close enough.

"So come and touch me," you say, and sit back just in time for Dave to flash-step onto the bed, his knees on either side of your legs, pinning your thighs together. He presses his hands onto your waist. His sword calluses rub enticingly against your skin. You shiver, imagining that rough texture on your newly sensitive breasts.

"You sure, Jade?" Dave asks, red eyes locked on yours, for once no attempt at irony or metaphor confusing his words. "Be sure, 'cause I am not gonna try to put out this fire once you strike the match." Okay, so he's still using metaphors. Obviously you need to make him stop thinking so clearly.

"I'm sure," you say, and you wrap your hands around his longer, broader palms and raise his fingers to your breasts.

His calluses feel even better than you thought they would, and knowing that it's him touching you -- that you have no control over where he'll move, over how hard he'll press -- makes the white fireworks of your own touch turn brilliant green and scarlet. Heat pools down low and you can feel dampness from more than sweat between your thighs.

"Beautiful," Dave whispers, tracing gentle spirals closer and closer to your giant nipples. "Fucking gorgeous, Jade, and all for me. I know you weren't this big before. You did this special, wanted to play with yourself, but now I'm the one who gets to touch." His thumbs flick against the tips of your nipples, the flat of his nails against your painfully tight skin, and you shudder underneath him, mouth falling open with helpless gasps.

"So beautiful," he repeats, before he bends down to lick a narrow line up your right breast, his tongue held to a careful point. He skips over the peak of your nipple, teasing, and licks down your left breast the same way.

"More," you pant. "More!" Your hands itch to reach downward, to shove your damp and sticky panties aside, but when you try to touch yourself Dave grabs both your hands in one of his and leans forward to pin them over your head against the wall.

"In time," he says. "You're so crazy mad sensitive, Harley. Let me see how far I can get with your boobs alone."

You shiver, and he grins before bending down to blow gently down the tight crevice between your breasts. While you're still shaking from how strange and good that feels, he moves sideways and starts kissing a circle around your left breast, wet and sloppy, sucking and biting with each touch of his lips. He get just to the edge of your areola and abruptly pulls back. "Not yet," he says when you whine. "Gotta spread my attention fairly here, can't be favoring one of these gorgeous ladies over the other. What kind of knight would that make me?"

"One who isn't a tease!" you tell him between teeth gritted against the hot, heavy tension gathering in your breasts and between your thighs.

"Sticks and stones," Dave says with an evil smile. "Now, where was I?" He starts kissing and biting your right breast, the same wide circle, never quite touching long enough to let you break through into release.

He bends back to your left breast and flicks the flat of his tongue against your nipple, just for a second. Then your right breast. Then left again, then right. He buries his face in the crevice between them, down at the bottom, and licks a broad trail upward, shoving your breasts apart with his face.

"Delicious," he murmurs, taking a second to kiss your mouth and let you taste the salt of your sweat on his lips and tongue.

You arch your back, pushing your massive breasts up toward him in simultaneous offering and plea. "More, fuck you, more!" you say, barely managing not to shout. This room isn't soundproofed and noise carries all too well through metal bulkheads. Everybody should be in the kitchen eating dinner and making plans, but you're not a hero of Light. You don't have all the luck.

Dave laughs. "As my lady commands," he says, and finally, finally, he leans down to fasten his mouth on your right nipple. The sharpness of teeth set against the soft wet heat of his tongue and breath, and the slight roughness of chapped lips on the edge of your areola is almost-- is almost-- is _almost_ \--

And then he laughs again, and you're gone, nothing but fading sparks holding your body together as your mind spreads out to cradle the entire universe in green.

\---------------

You come back to yourself to find Dave lazily petting your hair and fondling the soft fur of your ears, a ridiculously sappy expression on his face. The moment you open your eyes, he snaps back to deadpan, of course, but you know what you saw. That wasn't a 'wow, i just banged a girl with huge boobs, go me' face; no, that was a 'jegus harley, how are you such a derp and why do i like you so much anyway?' face.

He totally likes you!

And your breasts, obviously, but that's okay. You're getting pretty fond of them yourself. But only in private. They're way too heavy like this for walking around all day.

"Uh, so," Dave begins.

"Yes, you made me come just by touching my breasts," you say as you stretch out the kinks in your arms. The way the motion makes your huge breasts shift and sway and draw his eyes is just a bonus. "You are the master. It is you."

"Like that was ever in question," Dave says, with the barest twitch of a smirk around the corners of his mouth. "Is that kind of sensitivity a normal thing or is it a side effect of your magic boob job?"

You feel heat rushing to the surface of your skin; your breasts turn a rosy pink in contrast to the scarlet of your face and neck. "Side effect," you say after you clear your throat.

"Huh," says Dave, still staring at your breasts.

You wait for him to explain, but he seems temporarily lost in his thoughts. You reach forward and prod his shoulder. "What?"

"Could you do the same thing to my dick? 'Cause I really want to fuck your boobs, and if your size voodoo makes everything more sensitive..." He shrugs expressively. "Hey, it saves on having to find a condom!" he adds, as if you couldn't just alchemize a whole suitcase full anytime you want.

You look down to see his erection still pressing painfully against the seam of his dark red pants. You imagine it sliding up and down the crevice between your still enlarged breasts, first rough and dragging with only sweat to lubricate its way, then gliding more and more smoothly as he leaks pre-come and you maybe gather some of your own fluids to stroke onto your skin...

"I could do that," you agree, suddenly breathless again.

"Awesome," Dave says.

You knee-walk forward and press your breasts against his chest while you reach down to unfasten his pants. His erection strains up to meet you.

\---------------

Much later, after all your respective body parts are back to their original size -- "which is an awesome size all on its own," Dave makes a point of telling you as he cups your breasts in the shower -- and you've teleported in some leftover pizza for a private dinner and changed the sheets so you're not sleeping in the sticky, musty residue of sex, you turn on your Compu-Sooth goggles for a minute and send a message to Rose:

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \--

GG: hey rose!  
GG: i just wanted to tell you that you were right about dave liking breasts  
GG: and that totally works out for me  
GG: good boyfriend, best sex!!!  
GG: lol <3<3<3

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \--

You put your goggles on your nightstand and snuggle back into Dave's embrace. He wraps his arms around you and tugs you close, one hand drifting up toward your chest.

"Sweet dreams, Dave," you whisper.

"Same to you," he mutters back.

Tomorrow you'll go back to serious business and figuring out how to beat the game and whoever's behind the man who tricked Rose into creating the Green Sun, but tonight you let all that go and fall asleep to the soothing weight of Dave's hand on your breast.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Full prompt details:** _so somehow before the three year trip, jade finds out that dave is totally a boob man, partially because butts were ruined for him due to all that puppet ass, but mostly because he just really likes boobs. jade then spends the next three years keeping a close eye on her boobs and hoping they get bigger so that when she next meets dave again he'll think she's pretty._
> 
> _well she gets her wish and by the end of three years she has got a pretty bangin' pair of tits. she's super excited to meet up with dave again, just keeps imagining the look on his face and all that. but then when they finally do meet, maybe in a brief period before the alpha kid's session starts, he just kinda brushes her off and goes to talk to john or something._
> 
> _jade slinks back to her room on the ship and is really quite upset. she gets to thinking that maybe the problem is that her boobs weren't big ENOUGH, somehow, and finally decides to use her space powers to give herself ridiculously huge tits, like something out of a bad hentai. turns out a side effect of the enlarging is a huge increase in sensitivity..._
> 
> _meanwhile, dave heads over to jade's room with the intent to apologize. the truth was that he'd had a minor brain break upon seeing jade's boobs and had avoided her to keep himself from losing his shit in public. but he realized what a dick he was being and unthinkingly opens jade's door to explain, only to see her squeezing her suddenly enormous tits and moaning._
> 
> _awkwardness and sexytimes ensue!_
> 
> _bonus points;_   
>  _-dave makes her come at least once purely by breast stimulation_   
>  _-he asks her to do the same trick to his dick, more for the crazy sensitivity increase than anything_   
>  _-there is titfucking_   
>  _-before any sexing takes place there is an awkward but adorable conversation about ~feelings~ during which jade tries to cover her tits but fails miserably and dave just cannot stop staring_


End file.
